


is this love i'm feeling?

by tamagotchitadashi



Series: Oikawa Rarepair Week 2017 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Journalist Oikawa Tooru, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 15:43:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11558307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamagotchitadashi/pseuds/tamagotchitadashi
Summary: "Let me sort your bandages!" He says, a little too loudly, before slamming a hand over his mouth.Tooru looks up in alarm, hand wrapping instinctively around his arm. "Excuse me?"alternatively titled: tooru can't take care of himself and tadashi can't dress himself (and may or may not be an axe murderer).





	is this love i'm feeling?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Oikawa Rarepair Week day one, for the prompt "Soulmates"!

Tooru sits in a crowded coffee shop, tapping away at his laptop at the table by the window that he's practically reserved, or so he'd like to think. He pushes up his glasses, brushes his hair out of his eyes, sips at his lukewarm beverage, anything to distract himself from the bandages wrapped by an obvious novice, himself, around his wrist. Around the name of a girl he never even got to meet.

God forbid, he might even end up actually writing something for the article open in Word on his browser, for the blog he has a part time job for - anything to ensure he can eat and live in somewhat comfort.

He supposes his affinity for caffeine doesn't help, but the coffee in the little local cafe is reasonably priced and has free wifi, so he's okay.

The place is so crowded that there are barely any seats or tables left, and a barista with exhausted eyes and fluffy brown hair asks him if he would mind if someone could sit in the space across from him.

Of course, Tooru minds a little, but graciously allows it, because he wants to stay on good terms with this place. A boy who looks quite young and too nice to be as punk-looking as he is (dyed fringe, worn leather jacket, eyeliner smudged around his eyes) sits down with some trendy and colourful drink and a cake in his hands, thanking the barista by name and with a smile.

The smile disappears all too quickly, and he peers at Tooru apprehensively, almost scared, with wide brown eyes and parted lips.

He's pretty, Tooru supposes, in a weird and unexplainable way. Like, not conventionally attractive, a mash-up of multiple styles and aesthetics that shouldn't fit as well as they do, with his messy and - for the most part - brown hair, some weird neon vaporwave t-shirt under his jacket and the punk, delinquent-ish elements. It's kind of... endearing, for lack of a better word, despite the fact it hurts Tooru's eyes.

He does run a fashion column after all.

They sit without talking, for a while, the chatter of the other people there coming from every direction but still, the harsh keyboard taps are noticeable. Tooru begins to relax, before the kid blurts something out.

"Let me sort your bandages!" He says, a little too loudly, before slamming a hand over his mouth.

Tooru looks up in alarm, hand wrapping instinctively around his arm. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it was just bugging me. They're too tight and wrapped wrong and you could seriously hurt your arm like that, did you do it yourself? Is it to hide your mark or are you hurt? If it's for your mark, there are lots of safer substitutes to bandages, you know," He babbles on, fiddling with his fingers.

Tooru blinks, confused and still trying to process what was just said. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Let me sort your arm out," The weird kid repeats, and this conversation is uncomfortable for the both of them.

He looks down at his arm, the bandages tightly wrapped around the wrist especially. The skin at both ends appears to bloat around the tightness of the layers of gauze, and his hand is going white.

"Yeah... Yeah," Tooru says, "Not here, though."

"Oh, um... Where, then?"

"My college is close." He closes his laptop. Packs it into his bag. Why did he do that? Why is he telling the random kid this? They don't even know each other's names. Right, he should probably ask. "What's your name, by the way?"

"Tadashi, Yamaguchi Tadashi. I'm sorry for not asking sooner! What's yours?"

"My name is Oikawa Tooru. It's nice to meet you, Yama-chan." Tooru likes nicknames, okay, and the way it makes Yamaguchi kind of flustered is super cute. Even though he could potentially be an axe murderer.

"What college do you go to, Oikawa-san?" Yamaguchi asks, getting up and following Tooru out of the cafe like a puppy, clutching his drink in his hands.

"Saito," He answers, matching their paces.

"Really? I'm a first year there! I don't think I've seen you before, though..." Yamaguchi responds, and Tooru is kind of alarmed at that. He's never seen the freckled boy before, either. This felt creepy, but it's probably just him being paranoid.

There might be the chance that this misfit kid is actually a stalker and or axe murderer, but it wasn't that much of a coincidence. He's a third year, and doesn't make a habit of hanging around with the younger students.

Plus, the coffee shop was really close to campus, so it was no act of fate that Yamaguchi had gone there, it was just convenient for him to do so. There had been other kids from their school there, too; some that Tooru knows by name. He's pretty sure the barista knows his friend Yahaba.

It's a fairly short walk, but Tooru regrets it more with every step. Like, how irrationally insecure over the goddamn mark do you have to be to go out of your way to lead a stranger to your dorm room to tie a bandage you could get a friend to do, or even just in the bathroom of the fucking cafe.

Fuck.

The walk is mostly in silence because Tooru is angry at himself for not thinking up a more suitable plan. He feels sorry for the kid. They're in the elevator when the freckled boy speaks.

"May I ask why your arm is like that, Oikawa-san?" Yamaguchi asks, tentative and soft.

Trying to set his boundaries. Addressing the elephant in the room.

"Sure," Tooru answers, deciding to actually tell the truth for once because what good is he going to do with a badly fabricated lie and a fading name on his wrist? "My soulmate killed herself. I never knew her. It was in the newspaper and the name on the headline matched the one on my arm."

"So you didn't want to look at it?" Yamaguchi guesses, eyes big and sad, face all too expressive - does this kid know how to keep anything to himself? - in the corner of Tooru's eye, captivating him whilst he's trying to look away. "I'm so sorry, though. You don't deserve that."

"How would you know?" He laughs bitterly, brushing the insecurities and grief and all the feeling he really didn't want, along with those words, off like they're hands grabbing at him from all around. "I could be a kidnapper, preying on you or some shit, right now."

Yamaguchi's eyes widen in shock, like he's suddenly aware of that possibility. They're almost at Tooru's door. He hopes to god he's not letting an axe murderer inside of his living space.

There is silence between them once again, until Tooru speaks, guilty for putting such a damper on the conversation, even though the air wasn't exactly pleasant beforehand. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Yamaguchi swallows, "Uh, if it makes you feel any better, I-I don't have a soulmate."

"Hm? What do you mean?"

"I mean, I was born with one. My childhood friend. I used to love him romantically, I think, but he never really loved me that way and forcing ourselves into a relationship where neither was happy would've been hell. He ended up falling in love with his current boyfriend, too, who's a really great guy. So fuck the soulmate thing," Yamaguchi says, finishing with a grin.

Tooru thinks that through, as he turns the key. What if Iwaizumi, his Iwa-chan, had been his soulmate? Would he still be with Daichi?

Would Tooru have ended up with her?

"What's your friend's name?" He ends up asking, slightly breathless after hearing the explanation. They walk inside, and Tooru leads him to the house.

"Tsukki. Tsukishima Kei," And fuck, if Tooru knows that name, "His boyfriend is a third year, Kuroo Tetsurou? You might know him."

How does Tooru not know this kid?

"Tetsu-chan. Your friend is Tetsu-chan's boyfriend. Your friend is the fucking- the fucking blonde kid."

"You know Kuroo and Tsukki?"

"Tetsu is my roommate, Yama-chan," Tooru explains, and then holds out his arm, "Ah, do you want to get this over with?"

Yamaguchi smiles at him, soft and precious - like something to keep to yourself - brushing gentle, shaky fingers over the bandaged arm. He unwraps it, slow and tender, making sure he didn't hurt Tooru because he is nothing if not endlessly compassionate.

"Do you want to cover it? Definitely?" Big brown eyes filled with concern look up at him, covered by a bleached fringe. Tooru brushes it out of the way and freckled cheeks fill with colour. "I'm sorry, I understand the pain it's caused you, but just in case..."

"I do, yes. But this is now. Maybe, one day..."

They're staring into each other's eyes. This is gay, Tooru. You barely know this dude. He could still be an axe murderer. Okay, but his friend is your friend's boyfriend. Tsukishima, from what Tooru knows, would probably not associate himself with axe murderers, especially an axe murderer who didn't know how to dress himself.

Plus, imagine the ways you could make Kuroo cringe on awkward double dates.

What the fuck is he thinking.

Yamaguchi smiles so wide it feels like a spear has shot Tooru through the heart. He smiles back, and is so damn happy, but uh, why are they smiling again? He holds Yamaguchi's hands and their eyes never break contact.

He hurts, sure. But maybe that's okay. Maybe he just needs time.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! please leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed - concrit is always welcome :)
> 
> come yell at me about rarepairs and oiyama:  
> tumblr: semieitamatic  
> art blog: elluleart


End file.
